One last story
by Carstein
Summary: Old Nan knows all their stories. There is only one that ever went unsaid; until one day, someone heard it.


Fever could bring down even the healthiest and strongest of men.

What chance did an old woman have?

It had come so suddenly it was truly frightening. From night to morning Old nan had simply… not came out of her room.

It'd taken them so long to notice, it wasn't until well into the evening before her lady mother finally called Maester Luwin with all urgency.

Old nan lay in her bed, drenched in cold sweat, her hands shaking. Sansa had tried to hold back her tears but at the sight of kindly Old Nan, a woman who had taken care of her since she was just a little girl, so weak and frail, wheezing her every breath, it was not at all easy.

Maester Luwin's face was grave as he worked, and as the hours wore on, with the warmth of the summer day giving way to winter night, he didn't look any more hopeful.

Her mother wrote to father, who was on Bear island with Robb, Jon and Theon. She imagined he would return with all haste.

And Sansa tried to help as best she could with little Bran and Arya, who was too curious by half.

Even so, she managed to spare her sister the knowledge that something was wrong with old Nan. Her insufferable, irritating, stupid sister.

One day came and went, and the next was no better; the one after, even worse.

Her mother stayed with Old nan in her rooms. If Sansa's knowledge of etiquette was anything to go by, then she knew it was unseemly for the lady of the house to stay with a 'servant' but Sansa was pleased that this was one propriety her mother had deemed unnecessary to follow.

On the fifth day… old nan barely woke… barely spoke.

Maester Luwin said she did not have much longer.

Sansa could not remember the last time her Lady mother cried.

Sansa was a young woman, barely three and ten; and she knew that she needed to begin accepting responsibilities of the house when others could not.

And this seemed like something that she not only could do… but should do.

She loved old Nan like a Grandmother.

And so it was, that on the fifth day, when the sun was beginning to fall, and night's chill was once more beginning to seep into the walls, that Sansa approached her lady mother, three moons pregnant with, perhaps her next little sister, or little brother.

"Mother." came her soft voice, startling Catelyn tully awake where she'd dozed in her seat.

"Oh. Sansa darling." She caught the grimace on her mother's face as a sudden movement made a kink in her back known.

"Mother. You're tired." She said, placing a hand to rub at lady Stark's shoulder. "I can stay with old Nan tonight."

"I couldn't ask that of you darling." Came her mother's answer.

"She is likely to rest for the whole night."

The voice startled both women, turning to find Maester Luwin at the open doorway. "And it is, indeed unwise for you to sleep in such a manner in your condition my lady."

"I'm hardly in my eighth moon Maester." Lady Catelyn protested.

"It might, nevertheless, cause complications later my lady." Luwin stressed.

And that seemed to settle it. With a mournful look that seemed to indicate she knew that this might very well be the last time she ever saw old Nan her lady mother pulled herself from the chair, stepping forward and pressing a soft kiss to the temple of the old woman that had delivered all four of her children and would not be here for the last…

It was her goodbye.

It was with a pang of profound grief that Sansa realized her father wouldn't be able to do the same. Her father who seemed to love Old Nan like a mother himself.

Neither would her brother Robb…

Her mother left soon after, and Maester Luwin told her to give her some concoction if she woke and was in pain.

Sansa settled herself down to rest, and watch kindly Old Nan.

(X)(X)(X)

It was dark tonight. As dark as she'd ever seen it. Even the torchlight seemed to be swallowed by the cold blackness, and Sansa found herself tossing more wood onto a fire that sputtered and struggled to stay alive, despite her best efforts and copious ammounts of oil.

Was this what a Winter night would feel like?

Old Nan whimpered in her sleep, and Sansa had ordered, and given up, more than a few extra bed-sheets and furs to try and warm this old woman she could barely help.

Maester Luwin did not think Old Nan would wake in the night.

But wake she did.

Sansa was nearly in tears, listening to her pained cries and miserable whimpers and unable to do anything but place Old Nan's head in her lap and try to help her swallow down whatever medicine Maester Luwin had left her.

"Oh… oh my sweet girl. You're here."

Sansa nodded, rubbing away the old woman's silvery white hair. "I'm here Old Nan. I'm here."

"Where have you been my sweet wolfing?"

Her eyes were glassy, and Sansa realized, suddenly, Old Nan was staring past her, not even recognizing her, speaking to someone else in her delirium.

"Go… but I can't go dear. I haven't told my most important story."

Sansa tried not to cry, tried not to let the words pain her. Tried not to think on that she'd never again hear Old nan's stories of brave knights and beautiful ladies and princesses.

"Have you seen him dear? Have you seen him? Little Ned. He tried so hard. Wanted to keep his promise to you dear. He loves your boy he does."

Old Nan's words spilled from her lips and confused Sansa. Blinking and wondering who and what she was talking about.

Who's boy did her father love?

"He'd never tell us. But I know my little quiet Wolf. Just as I knew my Wild one. I know he would never come back with a Bastard boy. He was yours. Only yours my winter girl."

Sansa's heart began to race. Pounding harshly beneath her breast as her mind worked quickly, trying to follow the woman's ramblings, her hand freezing where it brushed at the old woman's hair as a cold icy dread began to fall into her stomach.

Old nan let out a rattling cough, one that seemed to drain what vigor had seeped into her. Her smile was brittle, and her glassy eyes were now completely dull. "Will he know? Will he know if I leave him without telling my story? Dear Ned will never tell him. Too afraid and cautious our quiet wolf is."

Old Nan smiled, seemingly receiving some sort of answer to a question she offered a ghost, and finally let her eyes close.

Sansa cried. She cried beside her all night.

By the time the sun rose… old Nan was gone, her most important story going heard by Sansa's ears and Sansa's ears alone.

(X)(X)(X)

Well this is an idea that kinda hit me and wouldn't let go.

Frankly, I'm not sure how far I can take this. Mainly because while I have quite a few ideas on how this could affect the stark characters going forward, (particularly Sansa and Jon of course) I can't exactly settle on a plotline I wish to follow over the others. There are so many potential butterflies that its hard to pin down which one would be 'better'.

Frankly, if anyone has ideas/suggestions for potential consequences of Sansa knowing Jon's parentage of their own they'd like to share, feel free, and if anyone wants to take this idea further on their own, feel free. The only real 'rule' or 'condition' for that, would be no Sansa/Jon. Forming a romantic relationship with someone that was raised as a brother/sister is... frankly; disgusting.


End file.
